


Hell-Bent

by TianaTeaticket



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Blood, Crowley Has Issues (Good Omens), Crowley Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Hand Jobs, M/M, Misunderstandings, Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TianaTeaticket/pseuds/TianaTeaticket
Summary: Crowley overreacts to biting his angel a bit too hard.Self-loathing ensues.There will be a happy ending once I force these melodramatic idiots to communicate.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 22





	Hell-Bent

Blood. Crowley knows the taste of blood better than that of food. It’s the taste of his tongue, bitten before he can say anything incriminating. The taste of the fears he is meant to be inspiring avidly in the humans around him.

It is not meant to be anything he tastes on his Angel.

Crowley jerks back, yanking himself away from Aziraphale, only to see red. His vision is filled with nothing but Red.

‘Are you quite alright?’ Aziraphale asks, looking at his hands. He seems confused at them being empty when, moments before, he had his fingers wrapped most luxuriously around a rather tantalizing demonic cock. In other circumstances, the lack of understanding in Aziraphale’s expression would be cute. Cherubic. 

Innocent.

Now, it burns.

All Crowley can look at is the two points of blood, directly above Aziraphale’s collarbone, where he had bitten down when it all became too much. No, not too much, just enough. This is what happens when he’s given Nice Things. He makes them bleed.

Crowley hyperventilates, focussing only on the blood, and not eyes staring at him, full of questions.

~I hurt him. I hurt him. I hurt him. I knew I would. I knew I would and I let it happen anyway.~

Aziraphale takes a small step forward, naked skin shimmering with rose-gold sweat in the yellow light of the bookshop. Crowley tries to get farther away, to put as much distance between himself and his Angel as needed lest he do more damage, but in doing so he backs directly into a bookshelf. A hardcover, first edition of something he knows Aziraphale loves - because Aziraphale would - comes flying to the floor and spread eagles on the carpet, pages bent and cover flayed out like a dead thing. Roadkill. 

Crowley’s eyes snap from the book on the floor to Aziraphale. 

‘Crowley, I-’ he starts to say, but Crowley just miracles on clothes and runs out the door, leaving behind nothing but the gentle tinkling of a shop bell and all the sadness of Heaven. `


End file.
